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About Deviant Jocelyn TownsendFemale/Canada Recent Activity
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Literature
Hair
Locks are pretty,
Long layers in a dream,
Dazed,
Dazed by the possibilities which I am too lazy to pursue,
The story plays:
Once upon a time in a kingdom far away,
Walked a princess,
Locks of beautiful bronze,
Hand in hand,
With a man of grace.
I walk.
Outstretch my hand to a ghost,
And we walk along
In days that become dusk
We linger in this limbo,
Here,
But not really.
Locks are pretty,
Like a paper bag prom dress.
Pretty, if we pretend.
Pretty, if we squint our eyes.
Half blind,
Half blind.
But don’t you see,
The paper bag’s generosity?
But don’t you see,
How good is she,
Too busy to brush
Too frugal to eat.
Locks are pretty,
Split,
Locks are pretty
Growing
Lock are pretty
When I say,
“I love me dear despite,
Pretty locks you are mine.”
:iconLynielle:Lynielle
:iconlynielle:Lynielle 1 0
Literature
pickled penis
You’re a really good friend. I’d just prefer you didn’t have a penis. You see, I have this…phobia…of oblong shapes that just kind of jut out at things. You know it’s just kind of out there.
I mean, you’re great, really (for a guy). If it makes you feel any better, you’re the most feminine guy I’ve ever met.
Oh, please don’t cry! I mean it’s not you. Don’t blame yourself. It’s just your body.
Well no, I wouldn’t say I’m afraid of zucchini. They aren’t threatening in the same way. They aren’t imposing. Penises impose.
I mean, I couldn’t zip up my vagina if I didn’t want anything, but you could just not bring it up. If you were really an egalitarian, wouldn’t you understand that? An apple does not equal an orange.
Oh, now you’re crying. Is it because I said you were feminine? I meant it as a compliment. I like feminine. You’re just not feminine enough.
Let me clarify, I like man p
:iconLynielle:Lynielle
:iconlynielle:Lynielle 1 4
Literature
There is a Lake in Antigonish
The first time I saw you,
I saw right through you.
I wouldn’t let my eyes see you,
Because you could have stopped me in my breath.
There is this thing,
This thing that happens that I’m afraid to feel,
But you could make me feel…
…feel sick,
feel the sway of a light head on a numb body.
My hands got cold,
Because the heat of my body rushed to places that I’m not supposed to talk about.
So I looked right through you,
Like a glass wall
…the kind the dogs walk into.
They don’t see it,
Colour blind
But they feel when they collide.
I’m afraid I’ll feel it too.
:iconLynielle:Lynielle
:iconlynielle:Lynielle 1 2
Literature
Declaration towards a future
I sense.
I listen with my ears engaged.
I see in light and shadow.
I see in depth.
I remember to take full yogic breaths
so that I catch whiff of my surrounding.
I am strong enough to support myself.
I am strong enough to exert passionate energy.
I am wise enough to listen - to know when to retain.
I think about what to say.
I sit with my back bone straight.
I breathe.
I breathe IN the summer.
I walk through fall to a winter that is barable.
This is my metamorphosis.
This is who I'll be.
And now the cocoon conceals me.
I will be,
I will be,
multi-facetted beauty.
Strength,
Wisdom,
Aged.
I will be rooted trees.
I will be sacred sage.
I will be the light,
The shadow,
Yin and Yang.
Toaist,
Buddhist,
Wiccan,
Gnostic picture
Framed in a portable body.
I will ponder,
Be skeptical,
Believe
...sometimes I need to believe
that declarations are made honestly.
Hear me.
Hear me,
This is a declaration to a future self,
From a self that is transitioning.
:iconLynielle:Lynielle
:iconlynielle:Lynielle 0 0
Literature
Heather
"I want to prepare food with you because I trust you."
I want to enjoy your company.
I envy your entrallment with life.
The way you feel every moment breathing
Lived every moment of the day and settled into night.
you've come alive.
And sometimes I feel like clematis or Ivy,
Clingy,
Climbing,
Creeping for the sun.
I don't feel worthy of your presence sometimes,
But you always looked me eye to eye,
heard me ear to ear.
Stranger?
Friend?
Acquaintance?
What should I call you when you come riding
Backpack slacked on your basket bound bike?
What should I call you when you make me feel worth this life?
...Like this life thrives in beauty.
:iconLynielle:Lynielle
:iconlynielle:Lynielle 0 2
Literature
Space cadet starship traveller
Her devotion to my was taught.
Tide tight to my fingertips.
stuck--that unwanted stuck
That sticks like milkweed
Slowly stumbles from my tongues tip
STICKS...yet I feel none.
Not the glue of her body to mine,
as if someone had uplifted her body as the poppet
And raised her closer to me so that she weighed...
Not enough to pull my strings.
I was so far off in my mind that she stood here,
On earth.
I was in another place.
Inner/outer space.
I was a cadet travelling on starship nine.
Hello thoughts,
cosmos,
mind.
Hello mind.
Arguments of Tarnas dance in my head
and I contemplate whether or not there is division between the dark space of my mind and the dark space of the universe.
Whether or not my brain floats like the earth.
...then, I return to earth...
Clear of Tarnas,
Clear of jung.
Poppet on a string,
Where did you head to when I was gone?
:iconLynielle:Lynielle
:iconlynielle:Lynielle 0 0
Literature
bones
can you love these bones?
Do they make you uncomfortable,
because I hear you "whoa"
I see you cringe.
I am more than emaciation.
I am more than a body barely thin,
Barely seen.
I am soul,
I'm transition.
I'm attracted to the light.
But, you don't take me seriously
Think thin girls are shallow,
When it is their depth that left them drowning
Hidden sorrow,
What you don't know is what you don't see.
Can you love these bones?
Can you wrap them in beauty?
Can you see the blood run thin inside my veins?
Can you stand with me when I need to feel the rain,
Because sometimes I need to feel,
Yet you run away as if I were something untouchable.
I was always that filth you lunged for,
That filth you rejected,
Until that filth was devoured,
It rotted away,
Now that you see what has happened to me,
You'ved taken a look,
Now you're driving away.
Just bones at the side of the road.
:iconLynielle:Lynielle
:iconlynielle:Lynielle 0 3
Literature
black blob
If I could be dangerous,
I'd be the allure,
So I became something of barren grounds
of thistles and dust mites
and a bed of bones to break your body.
I knew that if I met you
That I'd be this black hole
And you could not espace my pull
I Pulled you all too close,
held you all too tight,
scraped you off onto me
and you looked at me
After colliding with the reality of our situation.
But I loved you -- in mind
But I could not convey the thoughts,
lips moved too slowly to tell the tale
But my muscles ache for motion.
:iconLynielle:Lynielle
:iconlynielle:Lynielle 0 3
Literature
anorexia's on sale
EmphaSIZE
Hyperbolize my proportions.
Distort me,
Until I resort to retort into a smaller frame.
Save self/ Self Sabotage
Make myself minute so I can hardly compute
this mass media of mixed messages:
"Slim Fast/ Big Mac"
Sate your hunger for under 100 calories,
Or,
Try our new hormonally injected chicken wings
-They cause insatiable cravings
But they're cheap, cheap, cheap.
(until they reep your pocket change,
Quickly clog your arteries.)
You see,
We are sensory machines
-As ignorant as some may be-
It all seeps through subliminally.
So long as we depend on mass marketing,
So long as we step onto the street
Peer at a bill board,
Look at a screen
So long as we smell the boil of transfat
We are transformed,
Stomach turns,
As we revolt,
Or we yearn.
Better to let your hair fall in front of your face.
Create a curtain of curls--organically yours,
Your armor against adversity.
Pretend you can't see through the strands of your body,
You are steel,
But even metal bends at a high enough heat.
:iconLynielle:Lynielle
:iconlynielle:Lynielle 2 3
Literature
Spoken to and for you
Every strong woman that I’ve met in the twenty first century
Is manic depressive or manic happy,
Fake smiling,
You can see it in their eyes.
Measuring their waists or over indulging.
Then all passer-bys walk by them like they’re ghosts,
And they get the idea that they might as well be.
You see, intelligent woman are a weapon,
They turn the media’s mask into a translucent layer,
They are post conventional moral thinkers  
They jeopardize the design
Because a smart girl uses her mind.
So she’ll eat her brains through starvation,
So there is nothing left of her but a cocoon,
But don’t worry, that will be gone soon.
And the women that move wavering in speed,
Moving so fast she hardly retains a thing she sees
Will take a look at the body that’s dissipating
Like she is scarp metal on the side of the tracks,
And like a train they won’t look back.
They never
look
back,
Because it’s not her story,
It’s history,
And he who will run this coun
:iconLynielle:Lynielle
:iconlynielle:Lynielle 0 8
Literature
Just this.
I'm going away when you're coming back,
And I'd be a liar to say
That I don't stare into my coffee cup
Watching the steam form abstract positions
If what could have been;
That I never took a breath
And said not to linger
Let hours pass.
God or no god,
Fate is just the future,
And I have no perception,
The picture in my crystal ball,
Just reflects my room.
So I'll let you move through my mind
Until you're just a blurry eyed memory,
Once upon a time.
:iconLynielle:Lynielle
:iconlynielle:Lynielle 0 2
Literature
notes for socrates
And the ugliest thing we ever possessed was love,
because love is not a noun but a verb,
The action of striving to obtain,
To retain,
To trangress to keep it in our domain.
Love is the ugliest thing you've ever seen because it is the subject of desperation.
Love is not divine,
Or if it was would never manifest in mortal flesh.
Divine perfection - immortality
Is what is so inclined to rouse our attraction - make us love
but love is not divine,
No, it is the prayer,
The inscents burning,
The rising smoke that dwells bellow the stratosphere.
Love is the limbo created as we stretch in communication,
Through meditation,
Divination,
To tap the spirits,
And let them stamper on,
With our messages to the god.
And maybe,
One of those spirits is love,
Because they are not divine,
Nor human kind,
A messanger in middle grounds.
Love,
Child of poverty and plenty
vacillates between rags and riches,
Has nothing but the finest mind,
And the finest mind is all he needs
To know he's rich in knowledge.
Li
:iconLynielle:Lynielle
:iconlynielle:Lynielle 0 5
Literature
Dipucus' origin of love
Part One
Dipucus tells the tale:
We stood inhibited.
Lacking thoughts,
Like vegetables growing,
Earth caked between our toes
Forming ever growing mountains,
That welded us to the spot on which we stood stagnant for centuries.
I’d never met you.
Never had I twisted my head,
Cocked my neck to take one good look at you,
Nor had you conceived of me.
Before love lit the way,
Before the formation of magnitudes,
Which do so much as to attract and repel
But more importantly force social interaction,
We stood as primitive people:
Rooted on the surface of the earth
Looking up at the sky:
Ra’s iridescent
Exuberance
Emanating
Being the only source of warmth tangible enough to hook our skin,
Lure our eyes from ourselves,
Break the spell of first degree narcissism.
Reaching for the sun,
          The moon,
We named them:
Ra,
Diana,
Attempting to demote them to our mortal stature.
We sprouted arms which swayed in the limbo between Ra and Gai
:iconLynielle:Lynielle
:iconlynielle:Lynielle 0 2
Literature
Stuck in a box
They painted over the bathroom stalls
leaving only a faint impression of the writing done in black, indeleble ink.
A site of repression,
A lack of expression enabled in schools,
in institutions.
We sat at desks like office cubicals
our seats tapered to our tiny tables,
square little boxes,
the defining perimetre,
a paradigm of our existence.
As we travel from block to block,
Cell to cell,
We skim the surface,
The surfaced scar of concrete paths
Made upon the earth in defiance to our mother for the marked she made upon our bellies.
There is a science to descretion,
Starting with feeble judgement and jostled jurisdiction,
With guilty verdicts of the virtuous.
Have you ever studied a rubics cube,
Then taken a good look at the city?
Then taken a good look at your life?
Where red sectors impede on yellow territory.
Where duty impedes on desire.
And we sit like dust collecting,
Collecting data,
Dating files,
Filled with facts,
Infatuated with our fictional,
Fictional stories.
This story that
:iconLynielle:Lynielle
:iconlynielle:Lynielle 0 0
Literature
Girls' Room- BWLG
But it's alright,
Daddy was out.
So we conversed,
Cross legged on the kitchen floor,
Speaking
-because we could with the door wide open.
Our eyes jotting to the driveway window,
Paranoia puncturing the pit of our stomachs,
As we spewed forth
The noise of revolution,
That breaks the silence of repression
With one subtle word.
:iconLynielle:Lynielle
:iconlynielle:Lynielle 0 1
my temple by Lynielle my temple :iconlynielle:Lynielle 0 5

Favourites

Literature
The History Keeper
His pale hands like albino spiders weaving a web of words on the paper, the letters writhing like the bugs trapped in the webs. The rolls of paper he had already written lay like corpses in the square shelves, each one wrapped in ribbon and stamped with a seal. The room was silent except for the soft scratch of his pen as it flew across the yellowed paper.
He wasn’t a record keeper, as that implied a man hired to record the ebb and flow of the kingdom’s assets, and he was no such thing. He was the History Keeper. The one who made sure Father Time didn’t completely destroy everything. He made sure history stayed the same, no matter how many times Chaos decided to have a good chuckle. He was completely essential, making sure time stayed alive and history was dead.
His hair tumbled around his entire body like water, his face and hands emerging. He wasn’t man, that was certain. No one knew where he came from, whether he had been born or simply grew out of the chair he a
:iconThe-Blink-of-an-Eye:The-Blink-of-an-Eye
:iconthe-blink-of-an-eye:The-Blink-of-an-Eye 1 5
Dark Eva by panadonia Dark Eva :iconpanadonia:panadonia 218 118
Literature
Girl-Boy wonder
Through androgynous hips
I leak power
Over thought,
As the line blurs
It becomes curved
Depending on the day of the week,
My back straight
I articulate
In a monotone tone
Just where my genders flown,
There's no classification for me
Why yes
Technically
I am a female
And I'm extremely cool with that
I'd rather be me
Than be stuck as a man
In your gender classified
Barbie / ken doll mold
Roles of societies norm–perfected,
I have rejected
My pink dress
And I will not
Wear a blue suite
I'd rather wear my purple
With its rainbow back drop
And stripes of black
With a sweet pretty girl seated on my lap.
:icon13lithiums:13lithiums
:icon13lithiums:13lithiums 3 8
Smoking 1 by Sheensha Smoking 1 :iconsheensha:Sheensha 4 4 Heroin 1 by Sheensha Heroin 1 :iconsheensha:Sheensha 9 3 Era by panadonia Era :iconpanadonia:panadonia 9 16 lesbians by Kremel
Mature content
lesbians :iconkremel:Kremel 458 62
Goddess of Chaos entry lineart by lilmoongodess
Mature content
Goddess of Chaos entry lineart :iconlilmoongodess:lilmoongodess 4 14
Charmed by Charmedsoul Charmed :iconcharmedsoul:Charmedsoul 446 156 - Alyssa Milano - by AngelAvril - Alyssa Milano - :iconangelavril:AngelAvril 69 90 Ocean Waves by panadonia Ocean Waves :iconpanadonia:panadonia 4 14 Ink Eye - Finished by Sheensha Ink Eye - Finished :iconsheensha:Sheensha 2 3 Generation ready... by 13lithiums Generation ready... :icon13lithiums:13lithiums 5 9 PULSE by Sheensha PULSE :iconsheensha:Sheensha 3 11 Charmed Spell by panadonia Charmed Spell :iconpanadonia:panadonia 139 26
Literature
Song of the Summer
I sat there
the piano kept playing.
the keys just not pressed down.
they said the chords sang their own song.
of twilight and gun barrels.
pointing them towards the stars.
and shooting round after round.
to a night that could very well fall down.
but those crystal chandeliers.
they mock my love.
and so do you.
and I'm lying to myself
for hours on end with a clock
that I covered in tape and pictures of you
and me
and other people
because I snap photos of other people
hoping to understand something about myself
Hoping that I'm not turning into the bloody wreck that you are,
that I don't share the same twisted values that you so gladly display
as you rape daylight out of everything I believed
with something sticking out in the middle
the fact that there's no stopping you  
so deafening and deadly that it could set this 1:42AM into the utmost green flame
But I'm not coming back
I'M NOT COMING BACK
You wish I was coming back?
You also wish I was dead
By the side of the road
with e
:iconAutumnsFallenSky:AutumnsFallenSky
:iconautumnsfallensky:AutumnsFallenSky 11 8

Activity


deviantID

Lynielle
Jocelyn Townsend
Canada
Current Residence: Canada
Favourite genre of music: Rock, indies, "women's rock", "lesbian stuff"
Favourite photographer: Alyssa Milano
Personal Quote: Just another butt in the ashtray
Interests
fuck you and your untouchable face.
  • Reading: Mrs. Dalloway

Comments


Add a Comment:
 
:iconrrddhh:
rrddhh Featured By Owner Sep 21, 2008   Photographer
it's gloria. :)
Reply
:iconlynielle:
Lynielle Featured By Owner Sep 29, 2008
oh my goodess! how have you been?
Reply
:iconrrddhh:
rrddhh Featured By Owner Sep 30, 2008   Photographer
i've been great! i haven't seen you in aaaaaages.
what are you up to these days?
Reply
:iconlynielle:
Lynielle Featured By Owner Oct 14, 2008
work, I'm livng on my own now which is nice. I feel as if I've een givn a blank slate and new beginning. How about you?
Reply
:iconthe-blink-of-an-eye:
The-Blink-of-an-Eye Featured By Owner Dec 24, 2007   Writer
Thanks for the fav and watch!
Reply
:iconvylite-jade:
vylite-jade Featured By Owner Nov 27, 2007
:heart:
Reply
:iconsonawolf-genie:
SonaWolf-Genie Featured By Owner Oct 9, 2007
Thanks for the watch!

--
The Pirate's life for me.
Reply
:iconpanadonia:
panadonia Featured By Owner Oct 8, 2007
and thanks for the fav on Era!=D:glomp:
Reply
:iconcrossofthedead:
crossofthedead Featured By Owner Sep 6, 2007
hey thanks for the watch.
Reply
:iconsolitusfactum:
SolitusFactum Featured By Owner Aug 11, 2007
thanks so much for favin :)
Reply
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